


I Couldn’t Ask for Another

by GlasyaLabolas



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:29:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6952999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlasyaLabolas/pseuds/GlasyaLabolas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lightly based off of the Tumblr post: "I once had a girlfriend that memorized my cycle and would bring me chocolate or bath salts on the first day and it was the best 10/10 would recommend"</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Couldn’t Ask for Another

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to my SO who is also equally bitter that most trans fanfic is cliche'd angst.

Hibiya’s cocooned in a mass of blankets on the living room couch when Delic gets home from his excursion. One grocery bag is being held more carefully than the rest, the pink bleeding through the gray plastic. He eyes the square shaped bag suspiciously, as if he wasn’t already aware that it’s some baked good, likely multiple based on the size. With his eyes now narrowed and head encompassed in the starry night pattern, Hibiya reminds Delic of an agitated hatching bird that’s pecked out all the wrong spots of their egg.

 

“What on earth is that?”

 

“A white chocolate cake.”

 

“An _entire_ cake?” There’s an exasperated incredulity to his voice that really shouldn’t exist anymore after living with the blond and his eating habits for so long.

 

Hibiya keeps still in his comfortable nest, choosing to listen to the noise his boyfriend makes in the kitchen rather than follow with his head or body. Even through the walls and his cozy cotton covering, he hears the laugh and playful jest of, “Don’t eat the whole thing yourself, okay?”

 

“I’m insulted that you would even insinuate that I would,” he says back. The heating pad against his lower stomach and combination of soft clatter from Delic and low murmuring of the forgotten TV is lulling him back in to a hazy mass.

 

The first few days are the absolute worst of it. Sudden pains in his back like sharp jabs, feeling like all of his lower internal organs have been scooped out with shards of glass and dumped into a meat grinder while they’re still attached to his body. Hibiya’s mind is bogged down and foggy from the pain, blood loss, awkward blood circulation, and medication that only does so much to curb the pain. He starts slightly and sluggishly when he feels Delic sink into the sofa next to him.

 

There’s a pretty, square slice of white chocolate cake topped with lemon shavings being set in front of him. It’s Hibiya’s favorite, and it’s probably from the expensive bakery he favors judging by the elegant presentation. Delic is hardly frugal, especially when it comes to pleasing Hibiya, but what sticks out in his mind is that surely the blond had to have called in his order a day, perhaps even two, in advance.

 

Hibiya squirms, finagling his arms out of his bundle like a turtle popping limbs out of its shell, and grabs the plate to help himself.

 

“I put the kettle on. Tea’ll be ready in a minute,” Delic says, flicking through the channels as Hibiya gives in to his craving. He already knows it will be a cup of chamomile, and Delic will even bring out the jar of honey they keep without having to be asked, just in case Hibiya wants to add any.

 

Showing affection and appreciation has always been a tad harder for Hibiya than most and right now with his achy body in disarray, there’s not much he can manage. He feels lucky to have ended up with someone that seems to swoon over and whose eyes brighten over light gestures like scooting close enough to press against one another. There’s an arm over his shoulder instantly, fingers gently kneading his shoulder blade to work out any possible kinks.

 

Something Hibiya doesn’t care about is settled on the television while he eats his dessert. Delic doesn’t care much either, instead placing his head into the crook of Hibiya’s neck. The blanket is Hibiya’s only line of defense from the abuse of lips and tongue that would come next to turn him in to a pliable putty. He hears his boyfriend inhale his scent, feels the hand creep up his leg over the cotton, massaging his inner thigh.

 

“Any thing _I_ can do to help with the cramps?” Hibiya can’t feel the husky breath against his ear, but he can feel the warmth left from it. He glares down at the magic fingers ready and waiting to peel him from his cocoon like plucking petals from a flower.

 

The tea kettle whistles.

 

“Go get the tea, you deviant.” Hibiya rasps, mouth dry from the cake and surely nothing else.

 

Delic chuckles and retracts himself, “Yes, yes.”

 

Even though a lech, Hibiya has never considered trading Delic for anyone else.


End file.
